Meet The Parents
by Lady Merlin
Summary: Wilson knows House's parents, right? He knows them quite well. But he had to have met them the first time... Wonder how that went. H/W friendship. Rated for patented Houseishness. One big bad word.
1. Chapter 1

Wilson glanced backwards at the pair of people in his office. He was still unsure, and his mind was on other things as he walked. As expected, he slammed into someone. And like Murphy (that bastard) had said, it had to be the worst possible person.

"Er, Morning Lisa."

"Spit it out."

"What?" he asked, defensively.

"You suck at lying. I'm pissed. Spit it out."

Wilson sighed. "Do you know where House is?" he asked her.

She raised an eyebrow. "What did he do now?"

"Well, now here's the thing. He didn't do anything."

"Then why do you want him?"

Wilson sighed. Damn Murphy. He jerked his chin over his shoulder. She looked at him questioningly. He jerked backwards again. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Do you have a knick in your neck?"

He rolled his eyes. "Look behind, Lisa," he said, hissing her name. She peered over his shoulder at the couple standing behind the glass doors in House's office.

"He has patients? And he's late? Oh, I'm gonna kill him myself, this time." She was about to stalk off to find House and kill him, when Wilson grabbed her arm.

"They're not patients. They're his parents."

Cuddy just stared.

Well? Tell me what ya'll think!

Love,

Lady Merlin


	2. Chapter 2

"Er, Wilson. Go entertain House's parents." Lisa had a hurried tone, and she spun to walk away.

"Hey! Why me? You go do it! You're his boss!" Wilson exclaimed.

"Exactly. I'm the boss. I say you do it." Lisa was now looking outright triumphant.

"Where's House?" Wilson asked, sounding slightly strangled and panicked. Meeting House's parents wasn't exactly on his list of things to do before he died. If he ever had to do it, he'd do it last, and then die. He didn't know exactly why, but he supposed it was because he always thought House's entire family would be like him. Or at least, there had to be some reason behind House's weirdness. Right?

"I'm going to go find him," Lisa replied.

"Come with me, please?" he knew Lisa couldn't resist his puppy dog eyes. House had told him he had sexy-brown-eyes. Teasingly, of course. He had learned from the best—he had to use everything he had to his advantage. A small twinge of conscience was squashed.

Lisa groaned. "I hate you Wilson."

He grinned. One Nil to him.

Lisa knew this, of course. "Call Cameron."

"CAMERON!" he yelled, doing his best House impersonation.

Cameron and Chase came running. "Where's House?" Chase asked, confused.

Lisa grinned. "Go find him."

"Why?" Cameron asked.

"His parents are here." Cameron's jaw dropped.

"Well, shit," was all Chase could say.

Review!

Love,

Lady Merlin


	3. Chapter 3

Wilson strode towards House's office, Lisa following him closely. He stopped outside and turned to her. He tugged on his tie and smoothed his hair. "How do I look?"

"You look very handsom—" Lisa said, automatically switching to Mother-Mode (as House put it). "What the heck? Why are you bothering with your appearance?" she demanded, all the while straightening his tie.

Wilson shrugged. It just felt like he should. He pushed the door open and took a deep breath.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. House, my name is James Wilson. I'm your son's best friend." Wilson said, ignoring Lisa'a eye roll. He could just imagine what House would have said—_You must have been every parent's dream. _

The short cuddly-looking lady stood up and smiled at him. She said in a voice very much like his own mothers', "Hello, James. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'd say that Greg told us about you, but he hasn't been calling us very much lately, and we got worried. So when my husband needed to visit his base Delaware, we decided we would visit him."

Her husband grunted, showing that he hadn't felt any such need to visit his son. Wilson supposed it was because they'd been kept waiting.

"Well, Mrs. House—"

"Blythe. Call me Blythe, and this is John."

"Oh, well, er, Blythe. Blythe, we don't know exactly where House is, at the moment, but we've sent out his team to locate him. We'll get him in a bit. In the meantime, this is Dr. Lisa Cuddy, the Dean of this Hospital."

Well? What say you all? The condition of reviews is not satisfying… (yes, that was a threat. I have cheese and pink umbrellas. And I'm sure I'll be able to find a calculator to top it off. Oh? You don't know what I'm talking about? Well, come 'ere, let me explain to you the mode of your death…)

Love,

Lady Merlin

P.S. I was kidding. You know, in case you're thick. xD


	4. Chapter 4

John spoke for the first time. "A woman Dean?" Wilson felt something wrong with his tone. "There's a reason there are only three women Deans in this country, ma'am. All due respect, I'm sure you're a fine doctor and make people feel really comfortable and all, but it's best for this hospital if you'd resign."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room.

"He's just making a bad political joke, weren't you, Honey?" Blythe asked her husband.

"Of course, of course," he grumbled, and took out a cigarette to puff on.

"Well, sir," Wilson wasn't fooled, "she's a Dean because not only is she a supremely capable neurologist, surgeon but she's a fabulous PR manager and has some of the best staff that any hospital could _ever _want."

"Yeah, yeah," said John.

Wilson did _not_ like him. He thought Blythe was nice, but she didn't seem to notice, or mind her Husband's rudeness.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, but I must be going," said Lisa, now in Cuddy Mode (as House labeled it). "Let me know when House comes in," she whispered to Wilson before slamming out. He didn't try to stop her. He didn't want her anywhere near this guy.

"Well," he said, "tell me about yourselves," settling down for a long morning.

What says the reader?

Love,

Lady Merlin


	5. Chapter 5

House walked into the hospital, scruffy and unkempt. His hair was everywhere, and his stubble had grown. His clothes looked like he'd picked them off the floor when he woke up. In other words, he looked normal. His leg was worse than usual. On a level of one to ten, it was eleven. He could barely bend over, and had some weird crick in his back, which meant he was lugging around his entire injured side. The only reason he'd decided to come to work was to get his mind off it, which was what normally worked when it got like this.

He turned towards the lift, when he suddenly saw Cuddy coming at him, at full speed. It was instinctive to move in another direction, but it hurt too much to move. Her face was like a cloud, all knotted and worried, but not angry. Surprisingly, not angry.

"House." Her voice was all wrong. He didn't care one bit, but she rarely sounded like this.

"What?" he asked. A nurse standing nearby could have sworn that he looked and sounded concerned.

"House, your parents are here," Cuddy said in a low tone, tugging on his shirt lapels. "Why couldn't you have worn a tie?" she asked, hurriedly. House was stiff as a board, and he gently pushed her hands away.

Cuddy was worried for an entirely different reason. Somehow Stacy had found out that House had been abused by his father as a child. She didn't know any of the details and House hadn't admitted it to her, but she'd put two and two together and figured it out. She'd confided to Cuddy, desperate to find someway to help him. She knew that if she told him outright, he'd deny it, and refuse help. And they'd never figured out a way to talk to him about it, but she still knew, without a doubt, that House had been abused as a child.

She realised House had just said something. "What?" she asked, having not registered the question.

"Why are _you_ so panicked?" he asked. She shivered.

"No reason. Just, just take care, okay, Greg." She couldn't help but whisper his name, like some sort of fervent prayer. She asked herself the same question. _Why was she so panicked? _

She knew it was because she didn't want to see him hurt. She didn't know how these things happened, how an abused child lived with those selfsame parents who had destroyed his childhood, and possibly his future. She knew _she_ wouldn't be able to live with it. She'd have run away, reported them or even killed them. But she'd never have seen them again. How could he live with it?

He touched her shoulder, apparently seeing the panic in her eyes. And then rolled his eyes. "Come on, they're just my parents. They won't eat you. Though, if you ask nicely, I might take up the offe—"

"House!" It was Wilson, coming towards them, followed by his parents.

"Son, if you don't have the virtue known as punctuality, you might as well have the god damn courtesy to call in, and let them know you'll be late. Boy, if you were in the army, you'd have—" House cut his father off.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Give it a rest." He punctuated it with a roll of his eyes.

"Speak to your superiors with respect! You've always been a useless lump of a child! Always falling sick, always getting lost, always in trouble. No character, nothing." His father was on a full fledged rant, forgetting the fact that they were standing in the middle of a hall, surrounded by stunned Doctors, Nurses and Patients. Doctors and Nurses most of all—who didn't know the brilliance of Doctor House?

House had turned off. He suddenly saw Cameron and Chase, rushing in a patient, while Foreman read details off the charts. Cuddy noticed where he was looking and gave an almost imperceptible nod as House turned and limped away as fast as he could. "Hey! Where're you going boy?" John yelled, as Blythe, red-faced and flushing tried to subdue him.

"Excuse me, sir," Wilson said, now loving this chance, "We're going to have to ask you to quiet down. He has a case, and the noise is disturbing our patients." John looked like he was going to hit Wilson, but turned and walked away instead.

He turned and yelled, "Don't let that boy get underfoot. Let them do their jobs right." And he left, as Wilson stood there stunned. Was it even possible that John didn't know his own son's brilliance? Cuddy looked shell-shocked. Wilson knew, almost instinctively, that she knew more than she was letting on.

He had to find out what was going on. Why was John so horrible to House?

It's longer… if it helps. Let me know what you think. I like the idea, and it prompted further chapters, but I'm not sure about the writing.

Love,

Lady Merlin


	6. Chapter 6

House was with his patient and his father had been escorted out. Cuddy let him in on the condition that he kept quiet and left the doctors alone. Wilson had snuck away from his office, where he was supposed to be filling in release forms. Key word: supposed.

Cuddy was in her office, he knew that. He bypassed her secretary, who by now knew Wilson to be 'the most harmless dude around'. Wilson had learned something from House, after all. He entered, and she looked up. She seemed to have been immersed in the flow of work, but when Wilson walked in she was suddenly reminded of House, and his parents.

Her face creased and she looked older than she really was. She nodded, resigned, as if she knew why Wilson was there. "Well?" he asked her, pulling out a chair.

"Well what, James?" she asked, rubbing her eyes and pushing her hair back. She seemed to be insistent that they be on the same plane—that he was talking about the same thing she was. She needed to make sure before she said anything.

"Tell me what you know about House and his family? Why were _you_ the only one who was so panicked? And not _just_ panicked, scared. Why did you look at his father like that?" Wilson said it as clearly as he could. No misconceptions. He needed the truth.

"Okay, look. You know back when Stacey was here? We were pretty good friends. And neither of us are the type for gossip, but this one time, she was so scared and she so desperately needed help that she came to me, and told me something she suspected about House."

"She suspected that House had been abused as a child. By his father. And she so desperately wanted to help him, but you know how House is. Right? House wouldn't even let her broach the topic. Didn't even let her think about it. From the beginning, he avoided the topic of his past."

"Then I got scared. Really scared, because even I couldn't help her. So I pulled his complete files." Wilson winced. Pulling someone's file was a pretty big thing. You didn't pull anyone's file, just like that. Especially not a doctor's file. Especially not Houses'. It made you look at them in a completely different way—you knew more about their past than anyone. Stuff that you shouldn't know unless they had told you.

"And it was really bad. Doctors all _over_ the world, from Japan, China, India, Egypt, Europe. Everywhere said the same thing. They all suspected abuse, but because his father was a marine, and a respected one at that, they left him alone. They all reported that he was in hospitals too much to be normal. He was always small, skinny and tall for his age. Always quiet, emotionally distant. Made no attempts to make friends. And the physical evidence is overwhelming. Boot-shaped bruises. Chemical burn marks. Broken bones with no reasonable explanation. Scars which were impossible to conclude as self-inflicted. Concussions every now and then. The conclusion was inevitable. Abuse." Wilson was transfixed—horrified, yet captured and fascinated. So much so, that he almost had a heart attack when he heard a third voice.

"But we always moved too fast for them to say anything." Both heads spun to the door, where House was standing, leaning heavily on his cane, his expression still heavier. "I hope you're happy." And he turned and left.

Wilson and Cuddy stood, frozen. _This wasn't how it was supposed to go, _Wilson thought. He's not supposed to hear about it like that. He got up and went after House, without having a clue to what he was going to say. Cuddy didn't protest—she would have done the exact same thing.

Well? How was it? Please let me know!

Love,

Lady Merlin


	7. Chapter 7

I own nothing! Enjoy!

Wilson chased after House, catching up with him easily. House had reached the elevator and he pressed the close button before Wilson could get in. Wilson ran for the stairs. He hated taking advantage of Houses' disability, but he knew House would do it, if he were in Wilson's position. He reached the third floor just as the elevator doors dinged open.

House didn't seem surprised to see him there. House strode out of the lift with a grace Wilson was sure no other handicapped person had. He had a wide stride, a confident left leg in front. Momentary distracted, he was unable to defend himself when House whacked his kneecap with his cane. It hurt. House was a doctor-he knew how to inflict pain without destruction.

He was left, clutching his kneecap, wincing in pain as House got to his office, and unsuccessfully tried to lock his door. Wilson knew how to handle this—he had much experience with being locked out. Getting in, he shut the door behind him. House was on his chair, popping a pill. He sat on the sofa, after a moment of consideration. He weighed the disadvantage of the distance from House against having to look up at him, while sitting on the ridiculously small chairs infront of his desk.

"Are you fucking happy? Did you get what you wanted, Jimmy?" Wilson was stunned. To people on the outside, House was the kind of person expected to use profanities. Even when Wilson had first met him, he had expected that every second word be punctuated with a vulgarity. But it wasn't the case.

House _never_ used profanities. Insults, yes. But never profanities. He was a somewhat refined person, deep, deep, _deep_ down below. This was actually the first time he'd heard House say that word. And he'd called him Jimmy. That was _never_ a good sign. Wilson pulled back to the current situation.

He sighed. "I don't see how this has anything to do with me being happy," he said, after realizing the question was rigged. If he said no, anyone would assume that Wilson had ulterior motives. If he said yes, well… The best option was self-defense.

House ignored him, typing something with quick precision, hitting the keyboard with something that looked a lot like anger.

"It has a whole shit load to do with you being happy. If it didn't make a fucking difference to you, why the hell did you have to poke your damn nose into it?" There it was again, some distant corner of his mind observed. He wanted to protest. It wasn't him only! It was Stacey and Cuddy!

Apparently House had the talent of reading minds.

"Stacey and Cuddy are women! Expendible! I don't care about what they know! There's a reason why I haven't told you all this stuff!" House is speaking loudly, but not yelling. Yelling will come later.

Unknowingly, he has given Wilson a line of defense. "Why haven't you told me, House? Why? What makes _me_ so horrible that you can't tell me. Why don't you care if other people know, and care if I know?" Wilson demands, taking the upper hand, the chance accidentally given.

House is stunned.

He seems furious, then his creased brow softens, and Wilson can barely believe he has won House over by defeating him. It was just the kind of unexpected noble thing House would pull, when you least expected it. He rubs his brows and Wilson can see lines etched into his features. Age. Tiredness. Pain.

He waits. House thinks. Wilson allows this. He knows it's not easy for House to translate ideas into words, especially not nice ideas. But this he needs to know. He needs to know why he is still here, why House doesn't trust him.

Suddenly, the door swings open. Both men look up, annoyed and relieved in equal measure. Wilson is secretly relieved too. Despite wanting it, he doesn't know if he can take it. If he can bear to have his faith in the world shaken. If he can somehow accept that Gregory House is not all-mighty. Unendingly strong.

Well? How is it? I like this chappie more than I like the others. Let me know.

Love,

Lady Merlin.


End file.
